


Run

by ladydragon76



Category: The Transformers (IDW Generation One), Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Rating: PG-13, character: blurr, character: megatron, genre: angst, genre: drama, verse: idw, warning: au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-20
Packaged: 2018-05-07 23:48:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5475086
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladydragon76/pseuds/ladydragon76
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Summary:</b> Blurr’s done with Cybertron.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Run

**Author's Note:**

> **‘Verse:** IDW  
>  **Series:** None  
>  **Rating:** PG-13  
>  **Characters:** Blurr, Megatron  
>  **Warnings:** Angst  
>  **Notes:** I got bit by a bunneh, told the peanut gallery, they enabled… LOL The usual, so here’s some fic. ^_^

Blurr stared out the viewport at the field of stars. He didn't look back at Cybertron, and when First Aid hesitated, the Racer reached over and flipped the proper switch and keyed in the jump to FTL himself.

"Oh. Thank you," the medic said. “I’ve piloted, but… well not much.”

Blurr nodded, but then went back to staring out into the black.

"There's a berth in the back," First Aid said, his tone uncertain. "You seem tired."

"I'm fine," Blurr replied.

There was a long pause, and Blurr waited for the medic to argue, but First Aid simply said, "It's there when you want it."

Blurr gave a soft grunt of acknowledgement. He felt the buzz of a scan, knew First Aid was watching him, but he refused to say more than he already had.

_"First Aid! Aid, wait!" Blurr called, hurrying toward the medic as he reached to close the shuttle door._

_"Blurr? Is everything alright?" the medic asked, hand still raised to the door controls._

_"Yeah," Blurr said as he drew close. "I want to come with you."_

_First Aid's visor flashed in surprise and his hand dropped. "Y-you want to come with me?"_

_"You're going back to the_ Lost Light _, right? I want to go." It was more than that, but Blurr wanted to get on the shuttle before anyone realized where he was and tried to stop him from leaving._

_The visor dimmed a bit, and Blurr almost sighed in irritation. Had the medic thought- Yes, he definitely had thought Blurr wanted to come with him specifically. Primus save them both._

_"Please," Blurr added, knowing the instant the word left his mouth that First Aid would agree. Guilt layered onto the ugly weight already pressing down on Blurr's spark, but it wasn't like he'd ever led the medic on. He didn't do that. Pits, he didn't think he'd even ever flirted with First Aid. Any delusions were the medic’s own problem as Blurr had far too many problems of his own._

_"All right. Do you need to get anything?" First Aid asked as he stepped back to give Blurr room to board. "I could delay-"_

_"No." Blurr slipped into the shuttle and turned to secure the door himself. "Everything of value fits in my subspace and is already there."_

_"Oh." First Aid stood, weight shifting for a moment, and Blurr just watched him. "Are you-"_

_"Need help with preflight?" Blurr asked and squeezed past the medic. He was being rude, but if he didn't get off this slagging planet in the next five seconds, he was going to fall apart._

"Blurr. Here, Blurr, wake up."

Blurr blinked, dazed and barely awake, and in no mood to be. "Hm?"

"You're really low. Drink this," First Aid said, and something bumped against Blurr's hand.

Energon.

Blurr pushed himself up from the slump he'd sank into and took the cube with a murmur of gratitude. The first sip made him wince, but he figured he needed it if First Aid was pushing medical additives at him.

"When we get back to the _Lost Light_ , you're coming with me to the medbay." First Aid managed a stern enough tone, but Blurr caught himself grinning at the mech. He was no Ratchet, but it was clear he was trying.

"Overhaul time?"

First Aid snorted. "And then some." That had a little more confidence in it, and Blurr really did smile. Though the expression was wiped away in the next breath. "I don't know what you've been doing to yourself, but a Racer should know better than to go so long between coolant flushes."

But I'm not a Racer anymore, Blurr thought. He finished the energon, then stood. "I'm yours then when we reach the _Lost Light_." The cube was set on the console, then Blurr fled for the berth First Aid had been trying to get him to recharge on since launch, instead of the Copilot’s chair.

~ | ~

“Blurr!” Hot- Rodimus shouted as Blurr followed First Aid out of the shuttle.

Blurr plastered a smile to his face and forced a laugh from his vocalizer as Rodimus swept him up in a hug and spun him around. “Hey Rodi. Did you miss me or something?”

Rodimus set Blurr back on his feet, but didn’t let him pull back farther than arm’s length. “Pits yeah! Glitch! Finally decided to come have some real fun, huh?”

“Something like that,” Blurr replied, audials tuned to First Aid as he reported to Ultra Magnus. “So… uh… permission to come aboard then?”

Rodimus snorted a laugh and hooked an arm around Blurr’s neck to drag him over toward Ultra Magnus. “Yes, and I’m sure even Mags here will agree.”

Ultra Magnus looked put upon, but Blurr figured that was probably more Rodimus than him. And frag the glitch if it was Blurr. “Welcome to the _Lost Light_ , Blurr. I will see to quarters for-”

“I got this!” Rodimus said. “I know some that are empty. You’ll like it.”

Blurr resisted the tug toward the door. “Thanks, Rodi, but I promised to let First Aid look me over first thing. I can ping you once he lets me out though?” He gave First Aid a glance, and hoped the medic backed him up. Primus in the Pits, but he’d forgotten how overwhelming Rodimus’ energy field could be.

“Yes,” First Aid said, his tone emphatic. “Overhaul, coolant flush.” His visor brightened. “Actually, captain-”

“I’ll file the paperwork then!” Rodimus interrupted, blaster fingers pointing at Blurr. “Get your room all set up for you.” He waved and hurried for the door. “Ping me!”

Blurr shook his helm as First Aid snickered. “Ratchet trained you well,” Blurr said, then waved the medic ahead of him. “Lead on. Where is the Hatchet anyways?”

First Aid hesitated, his field flickering sadness before he reined it in. “He left us. Took a shuttle and left.”

Blurr blinked in surprise, but he understood that need, didn’t he?

~ | ~

Blurr poked around under the bar. Mirage had left _Visages_ fully stocked, but so far no one else had seen fit to take it over. Blurr sure as slag wasn’t going to, but he had no qualms at all in raiding the high grade and mixing himself something that would crater him hard and fast. First Aid probably wouldn’t like it after all his hard work, but after a day and a half in the medbay, Blurr wasn’t exactly planning to seek out the medic. Not even for a hangover cure.

A few more bottles were placed on the bar over his head, then Blurr stood, only for his spark to about gutter. He yelped and stumbled backward, one hand reaching to brace against the counter behind him, the other clutching at the plating over his pounding spark. “Holy frag!”

Megatron arched an optic ridge and sat himself on one of the stools in front of the bar. A bottle was lifted and inspected, and Blurr thought about running. He could make it. Dash and get out the door before _Megatron_ could grab him.

Oh sure, he had known the tyrant was on the ship. Blurr had figured they would run into one another at some point, but he hadn’t expected the mech to search him out.

“Is this where you’ve been hiding?” Megatron said, his voice softer, more rolling and smooth than Blurr expected.

“I’m not hiding,” he denied. Blurr wasn’t, he just wanted a drink without anyone pushing him to smile and be friendly and open.

Megatron set the bottle back down and laced his fingers together on the bar. “Then why are you here? Unbecoming to steal the wares of a fellow bar owner, is it not?”

“I’m not stealing.” Blurr began measuring the various high grades. He wanted cratered, but he didn’t want it to taste like slag. “You want one?”

“You know that is forbidden,” Megatron replied. “Don’t you?”

Blurr snorted. “They’re slowly poisoning you to death with that sludge. I mean, fine, kill you outright. You deserve it, but Fool’s Energon? That’s just mean.” He glanced up and smirked. “I won’t tell.”

“As if it could be hidden,” Megatron said after a considering look at Blurr. He lifted his fingers in a small, dismissive gesture. “I’ll pass. So why are you here? Rodimus is combing the ship for you.”

“He has my comm code.”

“Internal comms don’t work well on this ship,” Megatron said. “You’ll need a communicator that can work despite the quantum field.”

Blurr’s mouth twisted to the side in something that could never be called a smile. “Yeah. I’ll get right on that.”

“You will,” Megatron said, and the words carried the weight of an order.

Not that Blurr responded well to orders anymore. “Will I?”

“You are not on Cybertron anymore,” Megatron replied, and slag Blurr to the depths of the Pit, but he almost sounded like he meant the words gently. “Regardless of faction.” His optics dropped to the empty space on Blurr’s chest. “Or the lack of one, you are under the authority of the command staff of this vessel. If one of us has need to reach you, then you must be reachable.”

Blurr felt his face heat, and his hands had stopped layering high grades and metals into the glass.

“Regretting your choice?”

“No.” Blurr sprinkled on the last of the magnesium flakes, then all but threw a straw into the drink before beginning to put the bottles back under the bar. “Nothing could be worse than being on Cybertron.” He hadn’t meant to say it, but all the hurt and rage and shame rushed him, boiling up in his lines with something close to hatred.

Megatron’s optics brightened, and Blurr realized he’d lost control over his field too. “How interesting. Of course, you are unfamiliar with what a madhouse this ship is.”

Blurr threw his helm back and laughed. “Are you kidding me?” One arm swung out to point at the door. “ _Rodimus_ is in charge! I served with that silly glitch when he was still Hot Rod. He’s never stopped being a brat, but he’s predictable.” He sipped at his drink, almost sighing at the smooth, sweet warmth of it as it slid down his intake, leaving an aftertaste of bright copper. “Better to die out here on a crazy quest with Rodi dancing us into an inferno, than to stay on Cybertron as a pawn.”

Megatron’s helm tipped. “How are you not Rodimus’ pawn here?”

“He’s not that clever.”

Megatron snorted a laugh, then decided against holding back and let a surprisingly pleasant chuckle roll forth. “No, he’s not. Now the truth. Why did you leave Cybertron?”

Blurr stalled by sipping his high grade, focusing on the slow blend of flavors. “Is that a debrief order from my captain?” he asked at length.

The former leader of the Decepticons seemed to consider, then shook his helm. “No. You’re about to explode.” Megatron waved a hand at Blurr. “Get it out.”

Blurr laughed. Mirthless and a bit mean. “You’re going to play confidant?” He laughed again, then ignored his straw to slam back the rest of his drink in one long pull. “I’m too sober for this.” But frag mixing. Taste had suddenly become secondary to being drunk.

“Is intoxication common for you?”

“No, but I’ve learned to apply it when the occasion calls for it.” Blurr dug for a bottle of something hard and came up with a high grade that looked toxic with that edge of a green glow it had. He tipped two fingers worth of it into his glass, then shot it down. It hurt the whole way, then caught fire in his tank. “Megatron, Slagmaker, Tyrant of the Known Universe, Murderer of Countless wants to play friend at me. The occasion calls.” The bottle knocked hard against the surface of the bar. “Fine. You want the story? Here goes.

“Starscream and Windblade are fighting some cold war for who can gain the trust of more of the colonies first. So we trip over another one, Velocitron. Everything there is decided by the fastest Racer.” Blurr poured himself another shot, smirking. “Can you imagine? A city full of nothing but Racers, and the fastest is their ruler. Any disagreements are settled with a race.” He shook his helm, glass lifted. “I remember barracks life. No fragging thanks.” Down the high grade burned.

“It was a set up from the start. Windblade’s not exactly subtle.” Blurr snickered as he looked up at Megatron. The dim lights along the walls carried a wavy halo. Whatever the green stuff was, it was potent. Blurr capped it and tucked it back under the bar, having to hang on to the edge to keep from toppling over. Potent indeed.

“So,” Megatron said, “the Camien came to you to… what? Become Velocitron’s leader?”

A sharp bark of laughter escaped Blurr. “Oh frag no! No one wants me in charge. They just want to use my bar as some ‘casual’,” he made air quotes with his fingers, “place to meet. No, she came because she knew I’d never be able to resist the chance to run and prove myself faster than that flashy bastard that thought he was better than me.”

“And she was right,” Megatron said.

“Of course she was,” Blurr leaned his elbows on the bar and balanced on his heels, letting his aft rock back and forth. Oddly enough, Megatron’s optics stayed on his face. “Been a while since I’ve gotten in a good run. Besides, the glitch tried to rev at me.” He snickered. “No one revs their engines at another Racer. It’s a dead giveaway to full power.”

“So you were confident you could win?”

“I was confident before that, but yeah.” Blurr cycled his vents and rocked with an internal rhythm. It was oddly soothing. “So I go and race, and the prize is that if I win, the mechs of Velocitron will listen to Windblade’s proposal.”

“You lost?” Megatron asked.

“No! I fragging won. I was winning from the start line despite the crazy obstacle traps they run that track with. I’ve done slag like that before plenty. Pits, I did fun runs for charity because I love those obstacle races and the challenge of them so much. That glitch was on my aft, but I had him. He was a full three paces behind me, and then it all got easier. And easier,” Blurr said, his tone dropping. “Then _easier_ still.” He shook his helm. “I didn’t get it then. I was too caught up in the thrill. I shot across the finish line and lapped mechs still tangled in the obstacles on my victory lap.”

“Did they renege?”

Blurr shook his helm again. “No. Velocitron agreed to listen and were even planning to escape their dying world and come to Cybertron last I heard.”

Megatron frowned, and Blurr waited. He wasn’t sure he wanted to speak the next part out loud. It would make it more real than it already was. “Then why did you leave Cybertron?”

In answer, Blurr asked, “Do you know what happened to Racers who cheated?” Megatron shook his helm. “Could ask Drift. He’s got the right look. He’s from low enough in the gutters that he probably is a cheater’s brat.” Blurr looked up and met Megatron’s optics. “Cheating is the single worst thing a Racer can do. You don’t throw a race. You don’t sabotage your competition physically or with threats. You don’t tamper with the frelling track!”

“Or?” Megatron asked.

“Or you get cast out. You get stripped of everything that can be stripped off your frame without killing you, and you get your lying, cheating, dishonorable aft tossed into the filthiest, lowest gutter the Racing Commission can find to dump your waste of energon aft in. Your records are stricken. It’s top news that you are a cheat. Your memorabilia loses all value.” Blurr cycled his vents, realizing just how fast they were running. “Most Racers refuse to live after that kind of disgrace. Now and then, one or two refused to die and they would become the most desperate of buy mechs. Too recognizable, after all. But when you’re starving, what wouldn’t you do for a meal, right?”

Megatron smirked. “Indeed. So why did you cheat?”

Blurr flinched back so hard he lost his balance and landed hard on his aft. He scrambled back up, face on fire, the room spinning around him. That second shot had been too much. Still, he clawed himself to his feet and snarled across the bar at Megatron. “ _I_ didn’t cheat!”

“Then why are you here? Why did you run away?”

For a moment, Blurr sputtered in disbelief. “I didn’t run away! I’m not a coward!”

“But here you are.”

Teeth grinding, fury raging though him, Blurr couldn’t find the words to deny it. “ _She_ cheated! But who will believe that when the truth comes out?”

“Are you certain?” Megatron asked, folding his arms on the bar and leaning in closer. “How do you know the Camien cheated for you?”

“Because she said so!” Blurr snapped and flung his arms wide. “I wouldn’t even know if she hadn’t told me. ‘No, Blurr, there was just too much at stake, of course I had to help you’,” he sneered. “I was in the fucking lead! Why ask my help if you’re just going to cheat anyways?! She’s no different than Starscream. They both have their own agenda, and it’s about power and controlling Cybertron and the colonies, not what’s actually best for anyone.”

“Why not take your information to the people of Velocitron?” Megatron asked, one hand lifting as if that was simplest of solutions.

Blurr rolled his optics. “Their planet is _dying_. They need to drag their heads out of their afts and get off of it before they’re wiped out. If I went and told them about the cheating, they would have slammed the door shut on negotiations and gone back to their racing until their sun exploded.”

“So cheating truly was necessary.”

“Are you glitched?!” Blurr shouted and slammed his fists on the bar. “I was in. The. _Lead_! I had the win in the bag.”

Megatron propped his chin on his fist and stared at Blurr with a blank expression. Blurr felt the rage boiling up again. “So it’s the principle of the thing.”

Blurr growled. “You don’t understand!”

“On the contrary,” Megatron said as he sat up straight. “I think I do. You’re willing to live a lie to save the lives of… hundreds? Thousands? But you can’t bear to be there with that lie shoved in your face day in and day out. You might slip. You might give it away. Someone might notice that you aren’t at all as happy about your victory as you should be.”

“I’m not weak,” Blurr said, but even he could hear the sulk in his tone.

Megatron waved it away. “Nor are you willing to remain with leaders you can’t trust while waiting for them to place you in another such situation.”

Blurr still scowled, but Megatron actually made sense. He hadn’t stopped reeling long enough to truly parse his own feelings. He’d _needed_ away and that was that. He’d been furious, ashamed, but helpless. Tell the truth and the mechs of Velocitron died. Stay there and either Windblade or Starscream would find a way to use him again, and they both had something on him now. He had no doubt at all that he would be the one thrown to the cyberwolves if it came out that the track had been tampered with. Windblade wasn’t subtle, but she was far more ruthless than she’d let on so far. Blurr had seen it when she’d so blithely told him about her ‘assistance’ during the race.

It was either that, or she was the dumbest thing with a transformation cog since Nitro.

The sudden memory of his fellow, mentally deficient, Racer made Blurr snicker.

“Blurr?”

Blurr looked up at Megatron and grinned. “Yeah. No, you’re right. How sad is that? I trust you and Rodi more than I trust- Starscream and a stranger…” He shook his helm, then pushed himself up to sit on the bar. “Not so sad I guess.”

“No, one shouldn’t trust Starscream at all.”

“I think it’s the wings,” Blurr said as he spun himself around so his legs hung over the same side of the bar as Megatron.

“The wings?”

“Mm. Everyone wants to touch them.”

“You are very drunk.” Megatron stood and held out his hands. “Why don’t I take you to your quarters?”

Blurr caught Megatron’s hands, distantly amused that he was touching _Megatron_ and not dead. He snickered again as he was pulled slowly forward until his aft slid off the bar and his feet hit the floor. His knees tried to buckle, but Megatron kept him standing. “Gonna keep me company? I should work off this overcharge.”

“As previously noted, you are drunk.” Megatron more or less carried Blurr out of _Visages_ since Blurr’s feet didn’t seem to want to move along properly.

“So?”

“So, I am not the sort to take advantage of drunk mechs.” Megatron smirked down at him. “I’m sure my co-captain is loose enough in his morals to interface with you. Want me to call him?”

Blurr made a face. “Nah. Rodi’s a fun ride, but I can’t take all that…” He waved a hand, searching for the right word. “All _that_ tonight.”

Megatron chuckled and led Blurr into a lift. “I understand completely.”

“I have a room of my own?” Blurr asked. Because if Megatron wasn’t interested, and Blurr wasn’t about to go looking, then he was on his own tonight and really didn’t want to deal with a roommate showing up.

“Yes. Rodimus chose it, so I suspect it’s one of the better rooms. It’s just around the corner from the main command quarters as well.”

Blurr followed along as Megatron tugged him into motion. His feet were cooperating a little better, but the ship was still dipping and swaying at weird intervals. “So you’re close too?” It was supposed to sound flirtatious, but came out more open curiosity.

“No, I’m a few decks down in one-thirteen.” Megatron drew them to a halt and poked an override into the keypad.

Blurr wandered in, one hand on the wall for balance as Megatron stayed by the door. The lights came on dim, and Blurr blinked. It was a rather nice room, and the second door hinted at a private washrack. Rodimus must really be glad to see him. Blurr brushed the thoughts aside, including the ones about how nice and big that berth was, and turned back to Megatron. “Thanks.”

Megatron smiled. And it wasn’t even scary. He pulled a small packet from his subspace and held it out. “When you’re ready, this should help you avoid that hangover.”

Blurr took it, recognizing the tablet. “Heh. Thanks again.”

“Welcome aboard, Blurr.” Megatron stepped back and the door shut, the lock beeping as it engaged.

Blurr sighed, scrubbed a hand over his face, then turned toward the berth. He flopped back and shut his optics, letting the universe spin him for a few minutes, but it was starting to get to the point where it wasn’t fun anymore. He tore open the packet and dropped the tablet into his mouth. On the third try. His spark still ached. He was still angry, but this was better.

This would be better.


End file.
